A Dark World
by DAForever62442
Summary: Summary: "I felt like it was me against the world, and the world was winning." Kurt's story, told during the ND circle in "On My Way." WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. Please don't read if you will be triggered. T for mature topic. "Cough Syrup" songfic. Klaine, Kurt/ND. First Glee fanfic!


Summary: "I felt like it was me against the world, and the world was winning." Kurt's story, told during the ND circle in "On My Way." WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. Please don't read if you will be triggered. T for mature topic. Klaine, Kurt/ND.

**Author's Note: It's heartbreaking to think that something like this could be cannon, even if the characters aren't real. There's so much more to them than what we see in the show. **

********UPDATE (PLEASE READ): It was brought to my attention that songfics are against 's rules because the song lyrics are not the writers' own work, but copied lyrics that are not public domain. I did double check the rules, and it does say that song lyrics are not allowed unless they are public domain (number three under "Actions not allowed"). I was also told that a message was posted on the front page of the site in 2005, and it said that disclaimers do not count for song lyrics. Seeing as we use other people's characters and situations without permission, I do not see how song lyrics are any different. I have seen lots of fics that incorporate songs in the Glee fandom and to my knowledge none of them had been reported or taken down because of the songs. The songs are used for personal use, none of us are making any profit from the songs. But because I don't want to risk losing my story or my account, I have taken out all the "Cough Syrup" lyrics from this story. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, the characters, or cannon situations. I took dialogue and the setting from "On My Way," which I don't own either. Anything you recognize belongs to Ryan Murphy and FOX.**

**Warnings: As stated in the summary, there is attempted suicide in this fic. Please, please don't read if you will be triggered. **

"_Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars." _

_-Martin Luther King, Jr._

I honestly don't see why we're all here. To cry about the attempted suicide of a guy that none of them actually liked? It's not like any of them actually care about David.

Sometimes I feel like exploding, just dropping everything and yelling at the the school, my friends, _everyone_. Why are they pretending to care about Dave? They _never_ supported him, they didn't even _care_ about him until all this happened! They pretend to have forgiven him, but they _haven't_.

Everyone was shocked when they found out. They ask how they never noticed it, _why _they didn't notice something was wrong. I'm not surprised. They sure as hell didn't notice when it was me, why should they notice when it's David?

We didn't realize it was this bad until it was too late. Nobody ever thought this would happen, nobody thought it would get this bad.

My thoughts are interrupted by Sugar. "Mr. Schue, why are we here? And why do you have a jar of peanut butter with only one spoon?"

Mr. Schue looks pleased that somebody finally asked the question he'd been waiting for. "It has come to my attention that our good friend Rory here has never tried peanut butter." Santana looks scandalized. "WHAT?! How have you never had peanut butter?" Judging by their expressions, everyone seems to agree with her. Murmurs of "What?!" and "How is this possible?!" sound throughout the circle, most of which I'm able to tune out. I really can't bring myself to care about peanut butter right now.

Mr. Schue gestures at Rory to get up and come to the center of the circle. Rory gets up and takes the spoon and jar of peanut butter from our teacher, looking apprehensive. "Rory, if you will."

After Rory has tried the peanut butter, I speak up. My voice lacks it's usual sarcasm and wit, replaced by the dull lack of emotion that comes with trying to conceal deep sadness. "Mr. Schue, while that's incredibly moving, it's kind of been an emotional week for some of us."

I can feel Blaine's eyes on me, and I give him a small smile to reassure him that I'm alright, even though we both know it's not true.

"Yeah, what's the point of all this?" Finn asks, speaking for all of us.

Mr. Schue looks around at us all, his expression deadly serious. "The point is that Rory just had a brand new experience. Just like all of you will. I want you to promise me, that no matter how depressed or hopeless or alone you feel, you'll never do what David did. There's always something to look forward to. So right now, I want you all to think of something you're looking forward to. Big things."

I barely have time to reflect upon Mr. Schue's obliviousness before Sam starts. "I want to earn enough money to buy my parents a house, so they don't ever have to go through losing their home again."

"You know, I'm looking forward to meeting Rachel Berry's children," says Mercedes thoughtfully. Everyone chuckles, and Rachel puts her hands on her chest dramatically, mouthing, _Thank you_.

Artie speaks next, a small smile on his face. "I wanna see my kids' first steps."

Sugar looks at us all and says seriously, "I want to be there to see _Sex and the City Part Three_."

"I'm kinda embarrassed to say it, but I really want to graduate." says Puck seriously.

"I'm going to petition the army to change my dad's dishonorable discharge status to honorable," says Finn seriously.

"I'm looking forward to graduating from Yale at the top of my class," Quinn tells us with a small smile.

"I want to be there for the day my grandmother loves me again," says Santana solemnly.

"I want Lord Tubington to quit his drug addiction." As usual, Brittany's answer leaves us all slightly confused, but we brush it off.

"I'm looking forward to marriage equality in all fifty states," Blaine says.

Mike smiles. "I'm looking forward to the first time I dance at Carnegie Hall."

"I just want a song." A chuckle goes through the group at Tina's response.

I'm next, and I have my answer ready.

"I'm looking forward to watching my dad make a difference in Congress."

Something short and simple that won't spark too many questions. I hope I don't have to say much else. It's been a hard week, and I don't want to end up crying. I've been trying to say as little as possible, to cover up the pain.

"I'm looking forward to being friends with all of you for the rest of my life." Rachel hit it spot on. After this year, so many of us are leaving. The memories from these last three years will be ones we carry with us for the rest of our lives. Who better to reminisce with years from now than each other?

Rory is last to speak, still holding the jar of peanut butter and spoon. "I know this sounds silly, but peanut butter really is amazing. You know what I'm looking forward to? Winning at Regionals."

Mercedes looks around at us all, serious expression back. "Mr. Schue, I know we're a little dramatic at times, but I don't think anyone would ever consider taking their own life."

"I did." The words are out of my mouth before I've really thought about them. Who knew two such simple words could have such an effect on an audience? Blaine's eyes go wide, Rachel's hands fly to her mouth in shock. Finn looks horrified, Mercedes shocked. Shock and disbelief radiate from the group. "Will you tell us?" Rachel asks quietly, her voice slightly muffled by her hands. She is never one to be tactful.

Seeing their reactions, I almost don't want to do it. I don't think I can bear seeing the pain on their faces. But I can't let their reactions daunt me. I have to carry on. I know I can do this. I have to. I have to be brave. I have to tell my story. Blaine, at least, deserves to know the whole story, after all he's done for me. He'd want me to tell him. They all need to know. It might help them, in some way or another. I look at the floor, avoiding their eyes as I contemplate.

I take a deep breath. _I can do this._ They may be misguided and jump to conclusions and drive me crazy at times, but they're family. And Mr. Schue...he may have his flaws, but he's the best teacher I've ever had. The teacher of a life time. He, without a doubt, saved my life. If I can trust anyone, it's these people. I look up into the concerned faces of my friends and teacher.

Trying to keep the tears out of my voice, I make my decision. "I'll tell you, because you need to know. It might help you somehow. But I also need to tell you that I've never told _anyone_ this. Not Carole or Finn. Blaine only knows parts of it; even my dad doesn't know everything. Could you just let me talk, without interruptions, until I'm done?" Everyone nods.

Where do I even begin? Do I begin at the beginning, like most stories? Or do I skip to the middle, the heart of the story? The heart of the pain, the self-loathing?

Where do I begin? At the beginning, of course. But where does the story begin?

"The bullying was at its worst. This was last year, right before the wedding. Of course, I'd been picked on for years. Locker slams, slushy facials, dumpster tosses, name calling. I was used to all that. But this was worse. The usual, only more often, more aggressive. Slushy facials multiple times a day and so many locker slams I lost count. As you know, David was the top offender."

"I didn't know what to do. The school wasn't going to help me, as we all know they're pretty much useless. Even though he could have done something, I didn't want to tell my dad. He was about to get married and I didn't want to ruin that. I was worried that the stress of my problems would make him have another heart attack. So I kept quiet and wore long sleeves to cover the bruises. I changed shirts as soon as I got to school and again before I went home so my dad wouldn't suspect anything. I kept spare clothes and hair products in my locker for slushy attacks and tried not to flinch every time a locker door was slammed. I figured since I'd been dealing with bullies for years I could handle it on my own."

I look around at everyone. They're looking at me expectantly, sadness and empathy in their faces, and not a little regret and guilt.

I take a deep breath and continue where I left off. "I went to Dalton to spy on the Warblers, like Puck told me to. Apparently that was the only way I could be useful. I couldn't believe it when Blaine told me the Warblers are like rockstars. I came back to McKinley, and everything was the same. I was still hated, still an outcast. I rarely spoke about myself, I didn't make eye contact with people. I was still a Lima Loser in just about everyone's eyes. Every day I was told I was worthless, a loser, and everyone hated me. When you're told something enough times, you start to believe it, however absurd it might be. Everything started getting really bad, really fast, and I didn't know how to handle it." Even I notice the tremor in my voice.

"Nobody noticed anything, not even you guys, my closest friends. That was the breaking point, when I realized I didn't matter to anyone. I just...gave up." My friends look at the floor guiltily; the girls have tears in their eyes and even the guys are hiding tears. I wipe at my eyes as more tears make their way down my face. Blaine scoots over and takes my hand, offering silent comfort and support even as tears roll down his face.

"Blaine told me to stand up to David, to not let him get to me. So one day I gathered all my courage and did. I followed him into the locker room..." I hesitate, reluctant to tell what comes next. Knowing the guys, they'll want to go all Braveheart on David. They'll completely overreact, which would lead to more disaster.

_Courage. _

"I thought he was going to hit me, so I told him to go ahead, he couldn't punch the gay out of me any more than I could punch the ignorance out of him. I...I told him he was just a scared little boy who...couldn't handle how extraordinarily ordinary he was. He g-got right up in my face, and I honestly thought he was going to punch me. I knew I'd gone too far. But he s-snapped and...he kissed me." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, barley a whisper, but everyone heard them.

The rest of the club's reactions are immediate and just as I predicted. Finn and Puck immediately stand, yelling about getting to Dave. Rory and Sam grab Finn's arms, trying to hold him back, while Quinn and Mike do the same to Puck. Both Finn and Puck are yelling and struggling to get free. I hear Rachel shout at Finn desperately, "No! Beating him up isn't going to help anything! Finn, _calm down_!" Mr. Schue simply looks horrified, frozen in place. Everyone else looks too stunned and sickened to move. Apart from Finn and Puck's yelling and Rachel, Quinn, Sam, Mike, and Rory trying to calm them, the room is silent.

Tears begin to blur my vision, and I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. At the same time I feel horrible having to tell them all that. It was a secret I had kept for so long it felt strange to talk about it, like telling was going to bring on some horrible consequence. I feel arms wrap around me from behind and Blaine pulls me into his lap, planting kisses in my hair. I turn and bury my face in his shirt, trying to hide the tears streaming down my face. My boyfriend rubs circles on my back comfortingly, letting me cry into his shirt and whispering comforting words in my ear.

All I can think about is that day in the locker room; one of the worst days of my life. I relive that kiss over and over in my mind, each time remembering more details. The conversation that led to the kiss, the horrible feeling of my then-enemy's lips on mine. How _humiliated_ and _violated_ I felt after.

Each thought sends fresh sobs through my body and I can feel myself shaking. Blaine tightens his hold on me as if he can physically hold me together, whispering comforting words and reassurances in my ear.

My sobs subside after a moment and I look up, my face still tear-streaked. I move so I'm siting on the floor between Blaine's legs; his arms around me are the only thing keeping me from breaking down completely. I lean against my boyfriend's chest with my head under his chin, taking deep breaths to calm myself. The others have managed to get Finn and Puck to settle down, though both of them still look extremely angry.

"Why didn't you tellme? I'm your _brother_! I could have _done_ something!" Finn exclaims angrily.

"Because Dave threatened to kill me if I told anyone."

That shut Finn up.

It shut everyone up. The stage is dead silent. Eyes go wide with shock and disbelief mingled with disgust. I feel Blaine pull me closer, his arms tightening around me, his hands splayed on my stomach. I lace my fingers though his, a familiar pattern that brings so much comfort.

"I wished a fairy godmother or a wizard or _someone _could come and make me someone else. Someone who was...n-normal, who could walk down the halls at school without being mocked, insulted, slammed into a locker, or slushied. Someone who didn't have to take roundabout routes to classes to avoid the jocks. I was so _tired_ of it all, so tired of having to put up with everything. It was too much. It wasn't that I wanted to die; I just didn't want to live. I just wanted somebody to _notice. _I wanted someone to care whether I lived or died. I felt like it was me against the world, and the world was winning. I thought this was a battle I could never win, so why bother trying?

_Slam! I wince as I feel my back connect with the metal locker. "Everyone in that little glee club hates you, I don't even know why they put up with you," snarls one football player. "Fairy," snarks another. "Worthless waste of space." Suddenly a wall of ice hits my face. "See ya, Lady Hummel!" That's Karofsky. I can't see him, but I'd know his voice anywhere: the voice that tortures my days and haunts my nightmares. _

_Then later his voice comes back. A hand reaches out for the cake topper clenched in my hand. "Remember my promise," he whispers threateningly, taking the topper. _

_I lean against the locker, waiting for my heart to stop pounding. I have nothing to live for. I'm falling, crumbling, _broken_. I can't get up and I can't put myself back together. They're right, there _is _something wrong with me: I'm too weak to handle anything. I can't even stand up for myself. Nobody cares about me. _

_I head home at the end of the day after climbing out of the dumpster yet again, trying not to wince. _

_I'm in Dad's bathroom without knowing how I got there, looking through the medicine cabinet. Finding the pain killers, opening the bottle and shaking several into my hand. The bullies' words rush through my head. _Worthless. Nobody likes you. Everyone in that little glee club hates you, I don't even know why they put up with you. There's something wrong with you, you know that, Lady Hummel?

_Before I know it the pills are in my mouth. _

I take a deep, calming breath, willing the tears back into my eyes. _I made it this far._ "I spit the pills out before I could swallow them. It just seemed like a too permanent solution to a less permanent problem. I realized how much I had to live for. I wanted to go to New York and live my dream. I thought about my dad finding me, my funeral, you guys getting the news that I had died."

"Why didn't you tell us? We would have been there for you, we would have stood up for you!" Mercedes says tearfully.

"I was so convinced that nobody cared about me that I wasn't going to go asking for help.If people wanted to help me, they would have done so. There's so much I would have missed out on. Let me be proof: it _always_ gets better. Honestly, if it weren't for you guys and Mr. Schue I probably wouldn't be here. You showed me that there is always a reason to keep living. Every day I'm so happy I didn't take those pills and so proud of myself for not doing it."

"_Remember always that you not only have the right to be an individual, _

_you have an obligation to be one." _

_-Eleanor Roosevelt_


End file.
